


Let it burn

by tallblonde (winstonlives)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Larry Stylinson was Real, Letters, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 15:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13954221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winstonlives/pseuds/tallblonde
Summary: Louis sees a fan video on twitter of Harry on tour. Makes him think of how things could have gone differently.





	Let it burn

**Author's Note:**

> New to this (old fandom) lol. And have been having many discussions with a friend who loves Larry (and now i do too. So I wrote this. It's obviously a work of fiction...

Louis sat in his lounge alone, watching a video on his phone. Harry. 

Harry was on tour again. His Harry. He was wearing a black sequined suit, holding that rainbow flag looking happy and proud. And brave, and so god damn beautiful it nearly made his heartbreak. It possibly would have if it wasn’t already broken all those years ago. It’s hard to heal self-inflicted wounds when nothing had changed for the better. Not for him anyway. Not for them. 

He still hid from himself, was still lying to, and denying himself. He wasn’t strong enough to live the life he wanted, wasn’t able to let go of what he had to maybe have what he desired.

He slouched down in the chair he was on, letting his head rest on the back, he stared at the ceiling, wishing he could do it. Wishing he could heal and move on, Harry had, Harry was strong and wonderful and loving and beautiful. He was doing things he wished he had the courage to do. Harry was changing the future, and he was stuck in the past and present. Stuck, stagnant, and possibly sinking. 

That night he climbed into bed, no longer alone, but not with Harry either. She was lovely, warm, and soft, and kind, but she wasn't Harry. Wasn’t who he wanted. She didn’t know him, know his heart, know who he was in his soul. She knew him, loved him, and in a way he loved her too. They went through a lot together and were happy most of the time. 

Maybe not happy. Content, comfortable, and that was enough. Wasn’t it? 

He lay there for hours, listening to her steady even breaths, her back to him, her long brown hair cascading over the pillow. Made him think of another brunette who, a long time ago, used to sleep next to him. Whose back would face him and all he would want to do was press his lips against the soft skin there and his hips to the taught round ass there too. He looked at the clock and gave up on sleep. He walked down the hall to the office and pulled out a notebook, intending to doodle or work on new lyrics. Anything to clear his mind a little bit. To distract himself. 

He doodled for a while, a birdcage, a bird, a small stuffed moose… all crude but all obviously linked to the same person. Finally, he gave up and started to write. Intending to work on a new song, maybe plan out some new lines or tweak a song he had already worked on. Instead of a song, he began to write a letter. A handwritten letter, to Harry. 

_Harry,  
I saw you today. Not in person obviously, on Twitter. I saw a video one of your fans took of you at your gig tonight. I saw it hours ago, but I can’t stop thinking about it. Can’t get you out of my head...I mean I normally can’t, but today it’s especially bad. Today I, today I loved you just a little more, and I didn’t even know that was possible. _

_It’s funny. I mean not really, it’s not funny at all. Not funny or fair to me, or to her, or to you… it’s not funny or fair but it's also something I can’t get over. Tonight watching you, while I was home alone, I wished I could be there with you, supporting you like I should, like we talked about all those years ago when were kids in love._

_I’ve watched you move on with others, and you’ve watched me move on too. But we both know that those relationships were nothing compared to what we had. What we have, or how we felt about each other. There was an instantaneous connection between us, something about us, you and me, that was cosmic and otherworldly._

_When I was with you, it was like I could do anything, have anything, accomplish whatever I put my mind to. You were like my drug and my biggest cheerleader, and I loved you so much it hurt sometimes. It still does, to be honest. It hurts more. It hurts more because you’re not here, and I’m not there. We aren’t we anymore, and I don’t think we ever will be because I’m not strong enough to be who you need me to be._

_Tonight I saw you up on that stage, without fear, without this weakness I have. I can see you move on, move from me, have me as a memory, as your past. I loved you first, and no one can take that from me, not even my own insecurities. No one can undo our past, and I thank god for that. I thank god that even if I can’t have you now for whatever stupid reasons my brain comes up with, I still have you there, with me at one point in time of my life._

_I’m happy in a way that you’re moving on. That you're expressing yourself more and more every day. Before when you supposedly moved on, I knew you really hadn’t. I even thought that maybe we’d be okay eventually. We’d have our us we talked about late at night in the secret quiet of our room. But now I see that I don’t think it will ever happen, because of me, because I am scared and selfish and weak._

_The worst thing is, that I know I am. I know I am hurting you, and me, and her. And I still can’t get my head out of my ass long enough to stop. I also know that if I was sitting in front of you telling you all this to your face, you’d be telling me I’m not any of those terrible things and that you love me too. Because I know you’re moving on, but I also know that if I would be strong, and take what I wanted you’d come back to me in a heartbeat. You’re still one of my biggest cheerleaders, as I suspect you always will. That is unless I do something else to hurt you. Something else that wrecks not only our love but our friendship too. It scares me because I can see myself doing that. Sometime in the future, I may need to push back again, and then I would lose you forever, which would be both heartbreaking once again, but also liberating. I couldn’t disappoint you, or hurt you anymore if you were entirely out of my life. That's some logic, isn't it?_

_I wanted you to know that I’m proud of you, proud to know you and to see you be a voice for those who for so long did not have much of a voice. I’m proud to have known you, proud to see you follow in footsteps of people like Bowie, Elton, and Prince. Like Those people who showed that it was okay to be different it’s okay to be who you are, it’s okay to love whomever you want. There are more voices than there have ever been right now saying these things, and you are one of them, you are part of the change. It’s exciting and wonderful to see, I just wish I was brave enough to join in. Join in and be a part of the change as well, but I know I’m not. Not yet, maybe never._

_Maybe one day she’ll catch on and leave me. Maybe one day she’ll find someone who loves her like she deserves. And then I’ll move to another, move to another who can be comfortable, one that I can fake it all with, maybe get married, have kids and grow old with. Or maybe one day I’ll figure out my shit, figure out how I can accept myself and what I want. The selfish part of me hopes that you wait, hopes that you wait for me to come to my senses. But then there is the other part of me, the good part of me, the part you love so much, that hopes that you do move on, and fall in love with someone else. Someone who can love you and support you and not put you through hell to do it._

_We were just kids, but we also grew up together. We grew into adults and grew as people all the while loving each other. Loving each other as much as we could, as much as we were allowed. There are times I wonder if we had fought back what would have happened. What would we be today?_

_It’s all speculation, and what-ifs and why-nots. All of which mean nothing because we’re not we anymore, we’re, you; she and I. We’re never going to be what we were before. We’re never getting that back no matter what happens in the future._

_I don’t know why I wrote this, I guess to apologize and to tell you how proud I am of you. How I really feel about you, and maybe give me closure and give you closure? Let you know it’s alright to move on. To really move on. Not like before, with those little forays you went into after us. I knew none of them meant much, meant what we meant to each other. It’s wonderful being your friend, even though a huge part of me aches for more. (I know you’d chuckle at that and tell me not to brag if I was saying this all out loud). If I was sitting in front of you baring my soul to you again like I did all those years ago. Still telling you my fears, still not strong, still not brave, but still very much in love with you._

_I’m sorry this was so long. I’m sorry it was just rambling, and it probably didn’t even make sense. When you read this it'll probably ruin the friendship we do have. I’m sorry for what I did to you in the past. I’m sorry I can’t be like you. I'm sorry I wrecked everything. I’m just sorry._

_Yours always,  
Lou _

He sat back, swiping at the tears that were streaming down his face and massaged his cramped hand. He folded the papers and found an envelope in the desk. He slipped the letter inside, the licked the bitter glue on the back of the flap. He looked out the window to the back patio, the sun now rising over the trees that lined the property. He watched the light change from red to orange to yellow before he stood up, and took the letter with him. He walked out to the back where a fire pit was built into the stones and surrounded by charcoal gray furniture. He turned on the fire and tossed the letter in. He watched it burn, waited until it was just ash then turned off the flames and went back inside. 

He walked into the bedroom, he heard her soft breaths puff against the pillow. He carefully climbed into the bed, under the duvet so as not to wake her. She instinctively moved towards him, resting her cheek on his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her before closing his eyes. His cheek resting on the top of her head he sighed “I’m sorry.” before he finally fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it wasn't too terrible, if you liked it, let me know. Thanks for reading. :D


End file.
